"EDRIS!"--The chaste name breathed itself silently in Alwyn's thoughts,--silently and yet with all the passion of a lover's prayer! How was it, he wondered dimly, that he saw her thus distinctly NOW,--now, when the violin-music wept its wildest tears--now when love, love, love, seemed to clamor in a tempestuous agony of appeal from the low, pulsating melody of the marvellous "Zigeunerweisen," a melody which, despite its name, had revealed to one listener, at any rate, nothing concerning the wanderings of gypsies over forest and moorland,--but on the contrary had built up all these sublime cathedral arches, this lustrous light, this exquisite face, whose loveliness was his life! How had he found his way into such a dream sanctuary of frozen snow?--what was his mission there?--and why, when the picture slowly faded, did it still haunt his memory invitingly,-- persuasively,--nay, almost commandingly?
He could not tell,--but his mind was entirely ravished and possessed by an absorbing impression of white, sculptured calm,-- and he was as startled as though he had been brusquely awakened from a deep sleep, when the loud plaudits of the people made him aware that Sarasate had finished his programme, and was departing from the scene of his triumphs. The frenzied shouts and encores, however brought him once more before the excited public, to play a set of Spanish dances, fanciful and delicate as the gamboling of a light breeze over rose-gardens and dashing fountains,--and when this wonder-music ceased, Alwyn woke from tranced rapture into enthusiasm, and joined in the thunders of applause with fervent warmth and zeal. Eight several times did the wearied, but ever affable, maestro ascend the platform to bow and smile his graceful acknowledgments, till the audience, satisfied with having thoroughly emphasized their hearty appreciation of his genius, permitted him to finally retire. Then the people flocked out of the hall in crowds, talking, laughing, and delightedly commenting upon the afternoon's enjoyment, the brief remarks exchanged by two Americans who were sauntering on immediately in front of Heliobas and Alwyn being perhaps the very pith and essence of the universal opinion concerning the great artist they had just heard.
"I tell you what he is," said one, "he's a demi-god!"
"Oh, don't halve it!" rejoined the other wittily, "he's the whole thing anyway!"
Once outside the hall and in the busy street, now rendered doubly brilliant by the deep saffron light of a gloriously setting sun, Heliobas prepared to take leave of his somewhat silent and preoccupied companion.
"I see you are still under the sway of the Ange-Demon," he remarked cheerfully, as he shook hands, "Is he not an amazing fellow? That bow of his is a veritable divining-rod, it finds out the fountain of Elusidis [Footnote: A miraculous fountain spoken of in old chronicles, whose waters rose to the sound of music, and, the music ceasing, sank again.] in each human heart,--it has but to pronounce a note, and straightway the hidden waters begin to bubble. But don't forget to read the newspaper accounts of this concert! You will see that the critics will make no allusion whatever to the enthusiasm of the audience, and that the numerous encores will not even be mentioned!"